


I Know It Better Now

by Megpryor



Series: Jed's Journal Entries [1]
Category: The West Wing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26704315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megpryor/pseuds/Megpryor
Summary: It's a State Dinner for the leader of Indonesia. That doesn't matter since a hurricane is about to devastate a small military tender ship in its wake and Jed talks to the young man handling the radio.
Series: Jed's Journal Entries [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943413





	I Know It Better Now

**Author's Note:**

> Season One, Episode Six - The State Dinner

**I Know It Better Now  
The Private Journal of Josiah E. Bartlet, President of the United States**

It was bad enough having to entertain this yahoo from Indonesia with a state dinner. Indonesia isn’t all that. The man is boring and rude and a ridiculous person to support. Rahm Siguto isn’t what I wanted to see in that country but we had few choices and he was the best of the lot. Not saying much but he was.  


He didn’t like the meal. He spoke no more than three words in a sentence and then he was done speaking. How did this guy campaign for office? I have to get some more information from about how that country elects officials. If this is their finest then . . . hmm, if I’m the President then the United States we better rethink how we elect officials.  


I understand he wasn’t pleased with the toast that Toby and Sam put together and, to be honest, it was a bit condescending. It was fully deserved for a country claiming to be democratic and having trouble understanding the meaning of the word. Oh well. I can’t imagine Indonesia being a big problem for the United States or any other country for that matter.  


So, that paragraph was a bit condescending of me. I shouldn’t belittle the leaders of other countries. They are trying their best, I hope. God knows Siguto must have at least one redeeming quality if we wanted him elected. Hard to figure out what it was.  


Actually, the state dinner was the least of the problems we encountered tonight. There was a hurricane working up the East coast. It was severe and as a precaution, we sent the Fifth fleet out of its port to be safe. It was standard protocol. They want the ships out of danger. It’s a good policy until you remember that nature doesn’t follow rules. The hurricane changed directions. It moved away from shore and right into the path of the fleet. Thousands of sailors were going to meet it head-on. It was a situation that frightened me, to be honest.  


I’m not a military man. Never could be. You know, CJ thinks my lack of military experience should be explained. I’m 4F. My arms are different lengths. People don’t notice it. I’ve learned how to minimize the variety in my limbs.  


Then again, I wasn’t exactly interested in being in the military. It’s hard for a pacifist to join the Army but I registered for the draft and that’s when I was turned down. I have to admit that I was glad. School was where I belonged. I wouldn’t have been a good soldier or sailor. I was too much of a pacifist. I’m more aggressive militarily now. I’m not happy about it but life changes a person. Certainly, the Presidency changed me. I now see how military action might be necessary more often than I originally thought.  


I go off on these tangents all the time. This is my private journal so it really doesn’t matter. No one will read this except me. I keep these notes just to have reference materials when I write my book about my Presidency. Rather pretentious of me. I’m assuming people might want to read my take on how I handled the office.  


Back to the reason I’m hesitating. I don’t really want to write any more about the evening but I have to. I asked if we could contact the fleet commander and speak with him. I wanted to know what was happening to the group in the wake of this Hurricane Sara.  


Turned out communications was down with all but one ship, the Hickory, a Tender Ship. That’s a ship that tends to the needs of the fleet. It makes repairs to the other ships, carries mail, has no weapons. It’s a service ship. All we could get on the phone was the kid in the radio room. His name was Harold. I can’t recall his last name. I’ll need to get it. I have to get his full name and rank.  


I could hear it in his voice. He was scared. He was also hurt. He had hit his head. I tried to be upbeat with him. A stupid joke or two just to let him relax a little. I literally had to sit down when he explained what was happening to his craft. His was a small ship and the huge destroyer couldn’t see that it was in its way. They were going to be hit, run over and destroyed. Harold was going to die.  


He worked at trying to find the ship’s commander but he couldn’t. I talked to him. Found out he was from Chicago. He was a White Sox fan since he came from the south side. We talked about his team’s chances next season. I told him about Leo being a Cubs man. Harold told me to tell Leo that he was rooting for the wrong team, that the Sox were going to be unstoppable soon. Chicago fans are fiercely loyal and Harold enjoyed talking about the Sox winning the pennant.  


It got hard to hear him. The storm, the encroaching fleet and the loss of radio capability had the connection fading in and out. Not really fading. It was more angry than that. It was a crackling noise like a lightning storm interrupting the signal. Probably was closer to that than anything else.  


Then, Harold wasn’t there any longer. He was gone and now I know. I was informed that his ship was destroyed by a destroyer that essentially ran over it. Harold and the entirety of his fellow crew members were dead. An entire ship killed by a fluke of nature. Oh, I just remembered. His surname was Lewis.  


I have a picture in my head of what Harold looked like. I doubt I’m right but I think he was maybe 20 years old but looked like he was 16. Why I have that image in my head is odd. He sounded that young. The sobering part of hearing his ship go down is that I’m sure I was the last person he spoke to before he died. I was on the phone. I knew he’d been hurt. Still, he didn’t desert his post. He was a good military man, military boy. His life is over and mine just goes on. Where’s the equity in that scenario?  


I'm going to call his parents tomorrow. I want them to know he wasn’t completely alone when he died. No one should be alone when they die. Harold is a fine example of someone who serves their country without regard to personal safety.  


I won’t ever forget this night. I don’t even have to write it down. You can’t experience what I did and not have it acid-etched into your memory. I’m glad I recalled his name. Now, with my aversion to recalling names, I will probably forget it unfortunately. I’m glad I have it here.  


That boy is dead. He died staying on the phone with me. I only hope that meant he wasn’t alone when the destroyer rolled over him. I hate thinking of people in those situations dying without anyone being with them. It has to be too frightening.  


She doesn’t talk of it often but Mrs. Landingham lost her two sons in Vietnam. She worries about them being scared when they were attacked and needing her and she, of course, could not be there. Maybe that’s why I hope there was a reason for me to be on the phone with Harold.  


Maybe I’m making too much of a thing about dying alone. There’s more to it for me. A big part of it selfishness. I know I’m afraid of being alone when I die. It scares me to think no one will be with me. Wow, that’s sounds pretty cowardly. I guess I am a coward. I’m afraid of dying and now that I’m sick it’s on my mind a lot.  


I was afraid of talking to Harold. I’m glad Abbey was with me. Her hand on my shoulder connected me to life. I needed that.  


We lost Harold Lewis tonight. I hurt for that boy and his family. Why don’t the others on that ship mean as much to me? They do mean as much but not in the same way. Harold was my friend. I only knew him for maybe ten minutes. He’s part of my soul now. The impact of his death will affect this nation. I can’t possibly think of the military now without making it a humanity of people in service. The military isn’t a great big industrial company. It is men and women, mostly boys and girls, who offer their lives to their country. I knew that before. Why do I know it better now? Stupid question. I know it better because I lost a friend tonight, Signalman Harold Lewis.


End file.
